The Night of the Floundering Female
by BarkingatJim
Summary: Jim and Artie are on well-deserved leave when they run into a female. Chaos ensues. I apologise for my ignorance in the matters of geography, science and medicine. I have posted the remaining chapters. Please write a review, if you have the time. Many thanks to those who already have.
1. A Meeting of Travellers

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 1

 **A Meeting of Travellers**

 _(In which we meet a new character, and a couple of old ones, and the boys go to bed.)_

Miss Rebekah Sweetman caught the eye of the gentleman sitting across from her in the coach. He and his companion had joined the journey at the last stop.

"Excuse me Sir, I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you pay less money for your clothes because they're smaller?"

The tiny man chuckled. "In truth, miss, they cost me extra."

"That seems unfair."

"It's because they have to be specially made for me, there being not a lot of call for outfits in my size."

"That still seems unfair to me; they must use no more than half the amount of fabric that goes into a regular suit."

"It's very kind of you to express a feeling of injustice on my part, but I am a man of ample means."

"Oh well, that's alright then. And who is the beautiful lady sitting next to you?"

"Allow me to introduce my dear wife, Antoinette," the small man said with a proud smile.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs..."

"Loveless," the lady supplied, and her husband gave her a warning look.

"I see no harm in telling this young lady," Antoinette said.

"You're right, my dear," her husband agreed. After all, one never knew what use a new acquaintance might be.

"Why shouldn't you tell me your name?"

"There are those who would like to hurt my husband and myself, Miss..er.."

"Rebekah Sweetman," the young lady replied. "Why would anyone want to harm either of you?" She was puzzled.

"It does seem dreadful, doesn't it? My husband is a doctor, a noble healer, one who has himself endured a life of pain and humiliation and yet he is persecuted and never has a moment of peace or a feeling of safety."

"But who is it doing this to you?"

"Two misguided agents in the pay of the Treasury Department," the Doctor said. "Just because I once, through no fault of my own, found myself on the wrong side of the law, when attempting to right an injustice done to me, they will not leave me alone. They are convinced I'm some sort of evil mastermind." He chuckled at the absurdity of it.

"What you? I find that hard to believe. Oh dear, this is where I alight." Miss Sweetman added, hearing the shout of the coach driver, announcing their arrival in Coleville. "It's been a pleasure to talk to you. I wish there was time to hear more."

"Thank you. Maybe we will meet again," Mrs Loveless said. "Where will you be staying?"

"I shall look for the cheapest boarding house in Coleville," Miss Sweetman replied. "Unlike you, I am not a person of ample means."

The door was wrenched open and Miss Sweetman took a step forward, missed the step and stumbled sideways, knocking over the man standing there.

"Whoops," she said, remaining cheerfully restrained.

The man, whom she had knocked over, swiped at his dusty clothing with his hat and let forth a string of abuse.

Miss Sweetman chose to ignore this; she was used to it. She merely waved to her new acquaintances, as her luggage was thrown down onto the dirt road and the coach departed.

' _Poor dear man_ ,' she thought to herself, remembering the diminutive traveller. She wondered what the injustice had been, that he should suffer so for trying to put it right, and her face took on a look well-known to her friends and family.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

James West and Artemus Gordon got down from their horses and looked around them.

"So this is Ventura Springs," Jim said, taking in the saloon, the general store and the blacksmith's forge. Apart from the jail, that was about it. If they wanted to contact Washington, they would have to travel to the telegraph office in the next town, but that was all right by them because they had no intention of doing anything that would involve work.

"Seems all right to me," Artie said. "It feels great to be on leave, with no particular place to go."

"As long as we meet up with the Wanderer in Denver in three week's time," Jim reminded him.

They had been given four weeks' leave and decided to hit the trail for two of them, in Wyoming, where their last assignment had left them, with the goal of having no goal at all, just meandering around small towns, and sleeping out in the open if there wasn't one near. They were happy taking in the beauty of their surroundings away from the dangers of their chosen profession, though Artie knew that it was against Jim's nature to be far from some kind of action. Because of that, they had stopped off at a ranch, where Jim had spent a day breaking horses. Artie had enjoyed watching his friend at work, displaying the strength and skill involved. Jim had broken in his own beloved stallion and it was something he liked to do. Artie was happy to leave such back-breaking work to others. He was glad to see that, tired and sore though he was, Jim was starting to really relax.

"It's getting dark; I'll take the horses to the livery stable," Jim said, indicating the building next to the smithy. "You find us a room at the saloon. One will do; it's only for one night.

Artie nodded, removed his saddle bags and threw them over one shoulder. "See you later," he said, and entered the saloon.

There were only a handful of patrons and the bartender stared at Artie as he approached. It was obvious they weren't used to strangers in town.

"I'd like a room for me and my friend," Artie said.

"You can have number four, at the top of the stairs." He handed Artie a key. "That'll be a dollar," he said. Artie blinked but handed the money over; it had better include breakfast.

The hotel room was no worse than most and better than some. Artie threw his saddle bags on a chair and then went back downstairs to meet up with Jim.

The two friends drank a couple of whiskeys and ate roast beef sandwiches. It was then time to call it a day and they went to their room with the intention of leaving early in the morning.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Jim woke up in the middle of the night and prodded Artie in the ribs.

"Did you hear that?" Jim asked.

"What?" Artie responded blearily. Before he even had time to turn over, Jim was at the window and looking out onto the plot of land at the rear of the saloon. "There's someone out there," he said. A shot rang out and Jim let out a grunt before falling to the floor.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	2. A Disturbed Night

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 2

 **A Disturbed Night**

Artie was out of bed and kneeling beside his partner in a matter of seconds.

"Jim! Jim!" he said. "Damn it!" There wasn't enough light for him to see, and Jim wasn't making a sound. With shaking hands Artie fetched the oil lamp and lit it. Then he placed it on the floor and looked at his partner. Jim was unconscious. He had gone to bed in just his undershorts so Artie was easily able to see the bullet wound high in his shoulder, not anywhere vital, thank goodness. There was not much blood which meant that the bullet was still in the wound. Jim wouldn't bleed to death but he would have to go through the pain of having the bullet removed. Artie dragged him over to the bed and heaved him onto it, trying not to jolt his shoulder too much. When he put his hand under Jim's head, to lay it comfortably on the pillow, his fingers felt sticky. When he was shot, Jim must have fallen and hit his head on something. That explained his unconscious state.

Artie was just considering the best way forward when there was a frantic knocking on the door. He opened it to find a pretty, young blonde woman standing in the hallway. She ran straight across to Jim's side, treading on Artie's bare foot as she did so.

"Ow! Who the hell are you? Don't touch him!"

The woman was inspecting the wound in Jim's shoulder.

"Thank God," she said. "I thought I'd killed him. But why is he unconscious?"

"He hit his head when he fell," Artie said. "What are you doing?"

"It's perfectly simple," the woman explained. "Fetch me some whiskey would you?" As Artie moved to fetch the flask from his saddlebag, she continued to speak. "I was aiming at a possum up on the roof and my foot caught on a tree root. The gun went off and hit your friend here."

She took the whiskey from him and poured some over the bullet hole. Jim groaned.

"Why were you shooting possums in the middle of the night?" Artie asked.

"It was one possum and it was keeping me awake. Now where's my knife?"

She pulled up her skirt and felt inside her garter, producing a small, sharp knife with a flourish. Artie was so surprised he hadn't even thought of averting his gaze, and was momentarily diverted by the sight of a pair of long, shapely legs.

The woman poured whiskey over the knife blade and then commanded Artie to hold the lamp for her, so that she could see what she was doing.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he asked, suddenly aware that he had let the woman take charge of things.

"Of course, this is not the first time I've had to do this. My father was an army doctor." While she spoke she pressed down hard around the area of the wound and, catching sight of the bullet, used the knife to prise it free of the rapidly swelling flesh around it.

"There!" she said, smiling, as she placed the bullet in Artie's hand. "Now I need to apply a dressing." Blood had begun to flow freely, now the bullet was out. For the first time, he noticed that the woman had brought a bag with her and she now opened it and removed a small pot. She cleaned the wound and then smeared some of the pot's contents onto it, before strapping it up with a clean bandage.

"That should do it," she said. "Now let's take a look at his head. Could you hold him up so that I can get to it?"

Artie moved forward and did as she asked. Once again she probed the wound and then nodded.

"As I suspected, it's just a surface cut, probably from the sharp edge of a piece of furniture. Not much damage has been done but it's bleeding quite a bit."

She smeared more of the ointment on the cut and bound his head with another bandage.

"You can put him back down now," she said.

Artie placed Jim's head back on the pillow and examined her handiwork. She appeared to have done a good job. Thankfully Jim had not surfaced fully during the procedure and was still sleeping, albeit with a look of pain on his face.

Artie turned to the other occupant of the room. "Now, young woman, I'll ask again. Who are you?"

"Events did rather overtake us didn't they?" she said. "I'm Rebekah Sweetman, everyone calls me 'Sweetie'. I'm staying at the saloon, same as you. And you are?"

"Artemus Gordon," Artie said, "and this is my friend, James West. I suppose I ought to thank you for what you've done for him but as it was your fault..."

Sweetie frowned when she heard their names but quickly smiled again. "Don't worry about that," she said. "Accidents can happen to anyone and I was happy to be of help."

Artie couldn't work out if that was an apology or not. He didn't think so.

"I'd better leave now," she said. "Either that or you should put on a pair of trousers."

Artie quickly turned round and grabbed his trousers from a nearby chair. In the drama of the moment he had forgotten that he was wearing only a pair of black, tight-fitting undershorts.

"Don't worry," she said, over his embarrassment. "You've seen my legs, so it's quid pro quo. I'd better leave anyway. I'll call in on your friend in the morning. Good night."

Artie replied in kind and shut the door behind her. He didn't think he'd ever met a woman quite like her before, in fact he knew he hadn't. Another groan, from the direction of the bed, drew his attention back to Jim. When Artie checked his forehead, he appeared to have a slight fever, which was hardly surprising. He decided he would stay awake for what was left of the night. He kept his trousers on and lay down on top of the covers, next to the unconscious man.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	3. Joining Forces

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 3

 **Joining Forces**

Artie was up and fully clothed by the time Sweetie returned, the next morning.

"I would have looked in earlier but I spilled hot tea on myself and had to change my dress and then I lost one of my shoes and trod on it without noticing. That upended me and I knocked the pitcher off the washstand. So it was good-bye to that. You'd think it was a Ming vase, the fuss they made over it." She stopped to take a breath and then asked, "How is the patient?"

Artie, still trying to take in this catalogue of disasters, stepped to one side, revealing a half-awake James West, now settled under the bed clothes, in deference to the imminent visit from a female. His eyes opened up wide when he saw Sweetie. He hadn't quite believed Artie when he'd described her beauty.

"Hello, Sweetie," he said, with a half smile. "I hope you don't mind me calling you that, it suits you so well."

"No I don't mind. It seems you're recovered from the drama of last night. I'm sorry I shot you, by the way, but Artie, you don't mind if I call you that, do you." Artie looked at her and shrugged. It hadn't escaped Jim's notice that she hadn't asked permission to shorten his name. Sweetie continued. "Artie was awfully nice about it when I explained the circumstances under which I happened to shoot you."

"Oh don't worry about me," Jim replied. "I'm happy to accept anything at the hands of a lady."

"That's a very pretty thing to say," she replied. "It's good of you to look at it that way. I'll just take a look at those dressings," she added, advancing on the bed.

She tripped on the rug and flung the bag she was carrying on top of Jim, whacking him in the groin. Jim expelled air with a sound like a "whoomph!" and she stepped back, apologising.

"Sorry about that," she said, picking up the bag and hitting him on the chin as she removed it from the bed, deciding it was safer to leave it on the floor.

She proceeded to prod the wound in Jim's shoulder, forcing him to clench his teeth against the pain.

"Seems all right," she said. "I see you have a slight fever, but it could have been a lot worse."

"Artie thinks it was down to the ointment you put on the wound," Jim gasped.

"Yes, quite likely. It's a concoction of my own, the usual ingredients, with honey, lavender and mint added. They're good for healing."

"What are you doing in a town like this, all on your own?" Jim asked, having regained his composure.

"I've been nursing a relative of mine in Coleville, an aunt, but she's better now so I'm heading for Fort Cheyenne, to marry my fiancé, Lieutenant Lance Kirby. He's an army doctor, like my father," she added proudly.

"Doesn't your family worry about you travelling such a long distance on your own?"

"I don't see why they should. I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."

"But it's dangerous out here in the west," Jim pointed out.

"And yet you were the one who was shot," Sweetie remarked.

Jim was momentarily speechless.

"Anyway, as you seem perfectly all right now, I shall leave you, as I have things to do. I'll return tomorrow to change the dressings. If you want to have a bath, in the meantime, remember to keep the bandages dry. I'm sure Artie will be pleased to help you. Good day, gentlemen."

"What a strange young woman," Jim said, once she was gone.

"Yes, but you should see her legs," Artie sighed.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The next time Artie ran into Sweetie, she was having difficulties with a dog. He didn't bother to ask how she had embroiled herself with the animal. He just sighed and walked over to see what he could do to help the poor thing.

"Why are you torturing that small beast?" he asked.

"Ah, Artie, what luck that you happened to be walking past. I can't get Jasper here to understand that he must get down off my lap."

"Jasper?" Artie asked, sidestepping the problem.

"Well, I had to call him something and I thought he looked like a Jasper but he doesn't answer to it so it's probably not his name."

"No, probably not," Artie agreed.

"Do you have any experience with dogs?"

"Not a lot, but I think it would help if you untangled the beads of your necklace from about his throat."

"Oh, the poor little dog," she said, disentangling him and plopping him down on the ground, whilst managing to poke him in the eye.

Artie leaned down to pet the dog and it nipped his finger.

"Ow, the little devil!" Artie exclaimed.

"Well, how strange," Sweetie said. "He was very friendly when I first got to know him."

"I know how he feels," Artie said, sotto voce, as he surveyed the wounded digit.

"I'm glad I bumped into you, Artie. I've been thinking about what Jim said and I wondered if you would let me join you for the rest of my journey, if it's convenient, of course."

"It will be easy enough to take a detour to Fort Cheyenne."

"When will you be leaving?" Sweetie asked.

"Jim says he'll be well enough by tomorrow morning. We'll set off good and early. Do you have a horse?"

"Not yet, but my aunt gave me money, for the journey. I'll use some of it to purchase a horse, from the livery stable."

"Do you want any help?" Artie asked.

"Thank you," she said. "It will be nice to have the support of a man."

Artie looked at her suspiciously. Her comment seemed out of character for such a single-minded, capable woman.

The visit to the livery stable led to a headlong fall into the straw for Sweetie and Artie being accidentally hit in the face with a horse's bit. Eventually the animal was chosen and purchased and Artie was free to leave the danger zone.

"Thank you, Artie, I'll see you both early tomorrow morning," Sweetie said.

Artie shook his head and went back to the saloon to tell Jim the bad news.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

"I think it might be nice to have some female company for part of our journey," Jim said.

"Yes, but what a female! You know she'll likely injure herself, or worse us, if let loose on a horse."

"Probably, but I'm glad she took me up on my offer. I'd hate to think of her travelling all that way, alone."

"I might have known you'd somehow manage to pick up the only beautiful woman around."

"Courage, mon brave!" Jim teased. "I'm sure you can deal with one helpless female."

"Helpless?" Artie glared at him. "Oh well, it won't be for long; it's only a few days' ride. Are you sure you'll be all right to leave tomorrow?"

"Yes, and even if I weren't, I can't stand another day cooped up in this room."

"Yes and, the sooner we get going, the sooner we can be rid of Sweetie."

"Poor girl, she's so clumsy, I feel sorry for her."

"Save your pity for Lieutenant Kirby. He's the one who really needs it. He's got a lifetime with her ahead of him, poor man." Jim couldn't help laughing at the look on his friend's face.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	4. Loxosceles Apachea

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 4

 **Loxosceles Apachea**

Sweetie was up early the following morning; in time to meet the boys in the bar of the saloon.

"My, you do look handsome fully clothed," she told Jim, "and you have such romantic blue eyes," she added, peering into his face and embarrassing him, even though he was flattered and knew he shouldn't be.

"Thank you," he said, smiling. "Now let's get going, shall we?"

"Certainly," Sweetie replied. "Would one of you gentlemen mind helping me mount my horse?"

Jim looked at Artie with a wicked smile. Neither of them wanted to do it but it was obviously going to be Artie as Jim had his left arm in a sling, though he had dispensed with the head bandage. This appeared to have occurred to Sweetie.

"It will have to be you, Artie. I forgot about Jim's shoulder."

"Happy to oblige," Artie said, glaring at Jim's grinning face as he followed Sweetie outside to where the horses were tethered, after being brought from the livery stable. Artie paid the owner and after that the antics began.

"No don't put your foot there!" Artie warned, when Sweetie was half-way onto her horse. "Ooomph!" he added as the heel of her boot struck him in the chest.

"Sorry," she turned to say, striking his jaw with her gloved hand. "My goodness, you really ought to get out of the way," she said.

Artie glared at her and then smiled sweetly. "If only I could," he said. Then he grabbed her ankle and hoisted her, half askew, into the saddle.

"That was most un-gentlemanly," Sweetie complained.

"Well pardon me," Artie said, sarcastically, turning away to see if Jim needed help as well. All that was needed, in his case, was a boot up. It was obvious from his face that he was trying hard to smother a laugh and a lot of coughing was heard as Artie mounted his own horse.

"Are you sure you're all right, Jim?" Sweetie asked.

"I'm fine, must have swallowed an insect," Jim lied.

They rode out of town, Jim using his good arm to hold the reins. He could use his other arm in an emergency but Jim knew that it could open up the wound in his shoulder if he did so. He was relying on his horse to help him, being well-trained and unlikely to bolt, if there was trouble.

Sweetie had donned a pair of calf-length culottes and a shirt and was riding astride. She was quite a good rider, despite her awkwardness in mounting her horse. Artie was relieved, as he wanted to make good time. They had already stayed too long in Ventura Springs and they would have to shorten their itinerary as it was, if they were to meet up with the Wanderer in Denver.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The three had been riding for more than two hours and were in a desert-type terrain, with gravel underfoot and a long, low, rocky outcrop to their right. Suddenly Sweetie pulled her horse up and the others followed suit.

"What is it?" Jim asked.

"I need to er..."

"Oh, I see."

"I spotted a small cave over there," Sweetie said. "I won't be long."

They rode over to the cave and the two boys stayed in the saddle while Sweetie went inside. The cave was bigger than it appeared from the outside and she was completely hidden from view. Moments later, Sweetie came running out, screaming.

"What on earth's the matter?" Artie asked. He jumped down from his horse and she ran into his arms.

"There's a giant spider in there," Sweetie said, with a shudder, pointing back toward the cave and then burying her face in his coat.

"He won't harm you," Jim said.

With her head on his breast, and a feeling of male protectiveness, Artie took a different view.

"I'm not so sure, Jim. It could be a Loxosceles Apachea."

"What's that?" Jim asked.

"An Apache Recluse spider. They're pretty venomous. I think I ought to check it out."

"All right then."

Artie lifted Sweetie's face and looked into the depths of her violet eyes. "You stay here," he said.

"Oh no, I must go with you. I can't let you face that thing on your own. You could be risking your life."

Artie very much doubted that, but had enough male pride to want this female to witness him heroically deal with a venomous spider, so he acquiesced. "All right, but stay by my side," he admonished.

Jim shook his head, well aware of what Artie was doing. ' _Oh well, let him get on with it,_ ' he thought. "Get on with it!" he said.

The two of them disappeared into the cave and Jim closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing in the mid-morning sunshine. He opened them again, with a jolt, when he heard a shriek, and saw Sweetie run out of the cave once again.

"Jim! Jim! You must come quickly. Artie has been bitten by the spider and he's lying on the ground. I think he's dead."

Jim was off his horse in a second and headed for the cave. ' _How has such a simple activity turned into a nightmare?_ ' he thought. He was trembling as he entered the cave and had to allow for his sight to adapt to the darkness before he could make out the body of his friend lying on the ground.

"Artie," he shouted, as he clumsily fell to his knees beside the body. "What happened, buddy?" There was a pulse but it was faint. He turned to Sweetie. "Where did the spider bite him?" he asked.

"On the hand I think."

Jim picked up each of Artie's hands in turn. "I don't see any bite marks," he said.

"That's because there aren't any," a voice said behind him. He heard a chuckle and then something hit him hard on the head and he wasn't aware of anything after that.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	5. A Familiar Face

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 5

 **A Familiar Face**

When Artie came to he found himself lying on a bed, his arms and legs tied to the posts at each corner. There was no sign of Jim or Sweetie. He tried to remember what had happened in the cave and decided that he must have been knocked out by some sort of noxious gas, as he didn't seem to be injured and his throat hurt. He had a woozy feeling in his head as well. Artie tested the ropes binding him to the bed but there was no way he could free himself. Eventually, he gave up and lay there worrying about Jim and Sweetie.

' _Who has done this and is it personal or were Jim and I just in the wrong place at the wrong time?_ ' He didn't have the answer.

After a couple of hours, Artie was torn between boredom and a growing fear for his partner. That was when the door opened and everything became clear.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

"Hello, Mr Gordon, I'm pleased to see you are back with us. It took you a little longer to surface than Mr West but, then he was only hit on the head whereas you were drugged. I hope you aren't suffering any after-effects."

"Loveless, you bastard!" Artie said.

Loveless grinned. "I can tell your opinion of me hasn't changed," he said. "What a shame, but I dare say I shan't be too crushed by it."

"What crazy scheme are you planning now, and where are Jim and Miss Sweetman?"

"You will meet Miss Sweetman in a moment. I've brought Mr West to see you. Come here, Mr West and say hello to Mr Gordon."

Artie's view of the door was restricted by both Dr Loveless and his own prone position. He didn't get a good look at his partner until he was standing by the bed, looking down at him.

"Hello, Mr Gordon," Jim said, looking straight through him.

Artie looked at his friend through narrowed eyes. It was Jim and, behind the fixed stare, there was a sense of anguish, and a pent-up aggression throughout his whole body, fighting to throw off the mental shackles Loveless had him in but unable to do so. "Jim, don't you know me?" he asked. "What have you done to him, you fiend?"

"I've given him a change of mind. Now then, Mr West, please release Mr Gordon and bring him to the dining room."

Jim untied the ropes and reluctantly pulled Artie roughly to his feet. He then pulled Artie's right arm behind his back, forced him to the door, and into the hallway beyond. The dining room was a few doors down and Artie was thrust inside and thrown to the floor, where he landed at Sweetie's feet.

"There's no need to be so rough with him," she told Loveless, while helping Artie up from the floor.

"You really had me fooled," Artie said, shaking her off and looking her up and down, until she blushed and took her seat once more at the dining table.

"You have only yourself to blame," she said.

"Help Mr Gordon to sit down," Loveless ordered Jim.

Jim pulled Artie into a chair at the table and stood over him. Artie wasn't sure what to do. He could see that Jim was no longer wearing the sling and knew he was probably experiencing some pain from hauling Artie around. He didn't want to hurt his friend's injured shoulder any further but realised he would have to tackle him if he was to escape from Loveless' clutches. With the odds of three to one he would have to bide his time.

Jim, meanwhile, was aware of what was going on and was torn up emotionally at the thought that Loveless could use him to hurt his friend while there was nothing he could do about it. Total exertion of his willpower couldn't help him make any movement at all. Another worry was that the little Doctor would put thoughts in his mind, as well as controlling his actions. That would mean a total loss of control, something he hated the idea of.

Suddenly the door opened and Antoinette entered to take up her position at her husband's side.

"Ah, Antoinette, my beautiful bride, you're just in time to see the fun. We're on our honeymoon, you know, Mr Gordon and, when Sweetie told me you were in town, I decided you would be a fitting wedding present for my wife."

Artie nodded in Antoinette's direction. "Anything to oblige a lady," he said, following this with a scornful look in Sweetie's direction. At least Antoinette had never tried to hide what she was. "Do I take it that the honeymoon is the reason you are not accompanied by Voltaire and Kitten?"

Loveless frowned. "Not at all," he said. "They have inconveniently taken a honeymoon of their own."

Artie grinned at the idea of Kitten and Voltaire making a match of it. Perhaps Loveless marrying Antoinette had put her ambitions in that direction to an end and she had decided to make the best of things. He looked to see if there was any reaction from Jim but he was met by the same fixed gaze.

"I see you are looking for some reaction in your partner," Loveless commented. "I shall oblige you. Mr West, didn't you tell me you were madly in love with Miss Sweetman?"

Jim had obviously said no such thing but he couldn't fight the thought that Loveless had put in his mind and the thing he dreaded happened. He turned his gaze on Sweetie, with longing in his eyes and she in turn looked at Loveless in bewilderment. She had obviously not expected this.

"But watch out, Mr West, for Mr Gordon has stolen her from you," Loveless continued. "Are you going to allow that, or are you going to stop him?"

Jim's jaw flexed with the effort to ignore the emotions twisting within him. Still he couldn't throw off the overwhelming feeling of hatred toward Artie, as he directed his gaze at him. He knew he had no choice but to fight him.

"Jim, don't listen to him!" Artie shouted, as his partner advanced on him. Sweetie did her best. She grabbed Jim's arm, telling him it wasn't true and not to hurt Artie. Jim threw her off and she landed against the table and fell to the floor where she was trapped as the two men began to fight. As the first punch landed, Loveless jumped up and down with glee.

"Stop it, Jim!" Artie yelled, backing away. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jim advanced on him and Artie pushed him back with a foot to his midriff. Jim responded by coming back and head butting Artie in the stomach. Before Artie could recover, Jim had jumped onto the dining table and now leapt on top of him, beating him around the head. Artie backed into a wall, hard, a couple of times and managed to dislodge his assailant. He turned toward Jim, who grabbed him by the throat. Artie punched upwards, forcing Jim's arms into the air. Jim let him go, with a howl, as the wound in his shoulder opened up.

"Dr Loveless, you must stop them!" Sweetie shouted. Loveless didn't hear her, mesmerised by the proceedings, his expression one of unholy glee. She decided to do something herself and ran into the middle of the fight, arms above her head.

Jim was about to punch Artie but drew his arm back when he caught sight of his true love in danger. "Oh Sweetie," he exclaimed, taking her in his arms and kissing her hard on the mouth.

Loveless was beside himself, chuckling and dancing about. He took Antoinette by the hands and they frolicked together. Artie decided to take advantage of their inattention. He started toward Loveless but, to his chagrin, the little doctor had been keeping an eye on things and called out to Jim. "Stop him, Mr West! He's trying to get away."

Jim turned away from his beloved, came up behind Artie, and grabbed him round the throat. He squeezed harder and harder. Artie started to gasp and then, devoid of breath, he fell silently to the floor.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	6. There are None so Blind

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 6

 **There are None so Blind**

' _I've been here before_ ,' Artie thought to himself, as he opened his eyes to find himself in the same bedroom as before. He attempted to move and found that he was tied up as before. He sighed loudly and a figure sitting in the chair next to him rose and moved to his side.

"Artie, thank God you're all right," Sweetie said. "I thought Jim had killed you."

"So did I," Artie replied, "but didn't you plan my death from the start?"

"No, of course not; how could you possibly even think that?"

"Maybe because you handed us over to that madman, Loveless; damn it, Sweetie, what did you think he was going to do?"

"I don't know. He just said he was going to make fools of you and fix it so you and Jim would leave him alone."

"The only way to do that would be for him to kill us." Artie only just held back from telling her she'd been a fool. He needed to win her to his side.

"I don't believe you; it's your fault for persecuting him so mercilessly, and him such a sweet man."

"A sweet man? That imp of Satan once killed forty people by sending them mad, just to prove he could do it. He would have sent Jim mad too."

"He said you would make up bad things about him."

"Didn't you see what he did in there just now? He was dancing with glee while Jim tried to kill me."

"I'm sure that wasn't supposed to happen. Miguelito probably didn't realise, he was so busy dancing. And why shouldn't he and Antoinette be happy to see you both suffer, after all the suffering you've put them through?"

Artie was convinced that, if he wasn't tied down, he would probably strangle Sweetie. "Do you know what he's done to Jim, at least?" he asked.

"He didn't hurt him, I'm sure," Sweetie said.

Artie didn't point out that it hurt quite a bit to be knocked on the head and that Jim's shoulder wound had opened up during his attack on Artie. It was obvious Sweetie wasn't ready to listen at the moment.

"What did he do?" Artie asked.

"I didn't see but he said he'd hypnotised him while he was unconscious and, when Jim came round, he was like he is now. He does anything Miguelito tells him. That just shows what a great man Miguelito is."

"That's certainly an opinion shared by Dr Loveless himself, though 'megalomaniac' is nearer the mark."

"You see, your attitude is what caused the problem in the first place."

"So it's not the fact that Loveless escaped from prison and made it his personal mission to destroy James West? It's not that he shrunk Jim down to six inches so that he could be killed by a cat?"

Sweetie laughed out loud at that one. "Listen to yourself; how could that possibly happen? You and Jim must be delusional. Well I'm not going to betray Miguelito. He'll let you go when you've learned your lesson. I'll leave you now to reflect on how it would be to your advantage to apologise to Dr Loveless and his wife, and promise to let them alone in the future."

Sweetie turned on her heel, tripped on the carpet, fell against the door and caught her sleeve on the door handle. As she sprawled to the floor there was a tearing sound. Sweetie sat on the floor, looking at the ripped material. "Well, that's goodbye to that," she said, philosophically. Then she stood up, opened the door and flounced out. A moment later the door opened again. "Oh bother, I forgot to give you your dinner," she said, advancing on the bed again. "All your arguing has distracted me," she accused.

"Please accept my apologies," Artie said. He was still mentally kicking himself for mentioning the time when Loveless had shrunk Jim. Of course no one would believe that. They hadn't even mentioned it in their report to Colonel Richmond.

"It's only some rice pudding," Sweetie said, picking up the dish from the bedside table, where she had left it. "I made it myself, with cinnamon. The Doctor is partial to rice pudding," she rattled on as she picked up a spoonful of the thick, creamy mixture and attempted to feed it to him.

"You ought to eat something," she said, as Artie mulishly refused to open his mouth.

Suddenly Artie relaxed. She was right and he was behaving childishly. That was not the way to win her over.

"You're right," he said, and allowed her to feed it to him. The rice pudding was actually quite good and reminded him of the sort that his mother had made for him, as a child. She gave him another mouthful and then another, her ripped sleeve trailing into the bowl with every spoonful. Artie was too hungry to complain and was concentrating on holding his head up, so as not to choke when he swallowed. Finally the bowl was empty and Artie had a decision to make. He'd been mulling it over as he ate and knew he had to take a different tack with Sweetie if he was ever going to change her mind.

"I'm really worried about Jim," he said, truthfully. "I'd really like to see him, preferably without having him try to kill me at the same time."

"You poor thing," Sweetie said. "It was a bit of a shock. I had no idea Jim felt that way about me."

Artie's head shot up off the pillow. _Can she really be that stupid? Or is she so convinced of the doctor's innocence that she believes everything he says without question?'_

"I know you weren't really about to run off with me," Sweetie said. "That was just Miguelito teasing Jim. It was naughty of him but I'm sure he didn't realise that Jim would attack you. It was his idea of a bit of fun."

Artie bit his tongue before saying, "yes you're probably right. I would like to see Jim, though and make sure he's all right. Would you mind asking Dr Loveless for me?"

"Of course I will. Jim will probably want to apologise to you anyway."

So saying, Sweetie picked up the empty bowl and walked to the door. "I'm so glad you've decided to see sense," she said, before leaving.

When she was gone Artie let out a deep breath. He was obviously on his own. He could expect no help from either Jim or Sweetie. The noise of the door being unlocked came to his ears and a moment later Jim entered the room and strode toward the bed. His face was blank when he looked down at his partner. Artie was shocked to see that there were tears in his eyes.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	7. Falling In Love Again

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 7

 **In Love Again**

Artie awoke to find himself strapped to the same bed. He heard someone come in and looked up to find Jim standing there, staring down at him. Looking into Jim's eyes, Artie was surer than ever that his friend was in there somewhere. This was borne out when he noted a tear forming in Jim's eye.

"He may be able to force emotions on you, but Loveless can't stop you having ones of your own, can he?" he said, saddened by how upset Jim was. "My God, he told you that you'd killed me, didn't he?" he suddenly realised. "That..." He couldn't think of anything bad enough to fit how he felt about Loveless just at that moment. "On Jim, I'm so sorry. It wouldn't have been your fault if you had, but I guess that wouldn't have made it any easier to bear would it?"

Loveless had made Jim carry Artie to this room, telling him his friend was dead. When he had been ordered to return, he thought it was cruelty on the Doctor's part, making him look at the body of the friend who had died by his hand. He had been at his lowest ebb at that moment and could do nothing to stop his emotions overwhelming him. Finding Artie alive had been a relief despite the fact that Loveless had tied him up again. It was the relief that had finally triggered the tears to fall.

The eyes maintained their anguished stare. Artie wished he wasn't tied up; he desperately needed to go to his friend to comfort him. "Damn these ropes," he said. "If only I could do something to help you." At least Loveless had had his shoulder bound up again, he noted.

As abruptly as he had arrived, Jim turned and left the room. Obviously he had reached the time limit Loveless had given him for his visit to Artie. As he watched him go, Artie's heart sank. It looked like Sweetie was their only hope but how was he going to persuade her to help them?

Artie would have been even more dismayed if he had known what was happening in another part of the house.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The other four occupants were gathered in the Doctor's laboratory. The two women were seated and Jim was standing at the door. Loveless was pottering about with some equipment at one of the benches.

"Come over here, Mr West," he said, and Jim found himself walking across the room toward him.

"I want you to put your hand over this flame."

His arm shook as he raised his hand but ultimately Jim did as he was told. The pain grew to an unbearable level.

"No!" Sweetie shouted, running forward. She banged against the bench and the apparatus fell over, causing the flame to singe the table.

"You clumsy fool!" Loveless said, glaring at her.

Sweetie scowled at him then turned to Jim so that she could inspect the burn on the palm of his hand. The flesh was scorched and red. "A little salve will sort that out," she said. She turned to Loveless. "Don't you know anything?" she said. "Just because you've hypnotised him doesn't mean that he can't be hurt." She flounced to the other side of the room and found a box which contained salve and bandages. It took just a few moments for her to deal with Jim's injury, as gently as she could. "There," she said, "be sure to take care with that hand."

"I was only trying out an experiment on him." Loveless said, peevishly. "There was no need for you to get excited."

"There, you see, Jim, the Doctor didn't really mean you any harm," she said. "When are you going to release him?" she asked Loveless. "Surely he and Artie have suffered enough? I'm sure they'll leave you alone after this."

"You may be right, my dear, but I just want to make sure. Now, why don't you retire to your bedroom; you're looking a little tired?"

"I am a little. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight Antoinette, goodnight Jim, goodnight Dr loveless."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

As soon as Sweetie had left the room, a grim smile crossed the little doctor's face. "Now for some fun, my love," he said to Antoinette. She giggled and Loveless laughed.

"What are you going to do, Miguelito?" she asked, breathless with anticipation.

"Perhaps you would like Mr West to make love to you?" he said.

Antoinette glanced at him coquettishly. "Wouldn't you be jealous?" she asked.

"It will only be a kiss or two," Loveless said, dismissing her qualms. "He is handsome, isn't he? But I know your enjoyment would come from the fact that he was compelled to do it."

"How well you know me, my beloved."

Jim's jaw flexed. Given his situation, he had been prepared for Loveless to torture him, physically and mentally, and he had been right. But this form of humiliation had never crossed his mind. He tried to muster up some physical kind of resistance but he couldn't move a muscle, unless Loveless ordered him to.

"Go to her, Mr West, go to the woman you love," Loveless commanded and Jim could do nothing but what he was told. He found his gaze fixed on Antoinette. There was a taunting smile playing about her lips, this woman he adored. He couldn't stop himself from taking her in his arms as if she were something fragile and then the feel of her female form was too much for him and he pressed his lips on hers, demanding a response. She was his whole world and he couldn't get enough of her.

Antoinette deepened the kiss, before drawing back, smiling at him playfully, with sparkling eyes. She ran a finger along his jaw, teasing him. Then she lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face. Jim's head was flung backwards by the sudden impact and he gave her a look of stunned hurt. Antoinette laughed in his face.

"It seems the lady has rejected your advances, Mr West," Loveless said, with glee. "Why do you think that is?"

Jim looked at him dumbly, too caught up in the emotion Loveless had aroused in him, and the sting of rejection, to be able to think clearly.

"She is enamoured of Mr Gordon. He is the object of your affections is he not, my dear?"

"My body yearns for his experienced lovemaking, so unlike your boyish fumbling."

Jim felt his face go hot and knew he was blushing but he was also incredibly angry at this insult to his technique. Where was Artie? He would eliminate him and Antoinette would be his. He would show her he was every bit as experienced as the other man. But he couldn't act unless Loveless told him to.

Loveless looked at his wife. "Without Sweetie to interfere, this time the fight will be to the death. When I finally release Mr West from my control he'll be inconsolable with grief at the death of his best friend and partner, death by his own hand. No man could live with that."

Antoinette smiled.

"Mr West, why don't you visit Mr Gordon," Loveless suggested, "and have it out with him?"

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	8. A Change of Heart

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 8

 **A Change of Heart**

When Sweetie reached her room, she knew that she wouldn't be able to just go to sleep. For the first time, she was unsettled by something Dr Loveless had said. She didn't like the way he had flared up at her when she had knocked over his apparatus. For all that Miguelito said about them, she had never heard one criticism or disparaging remark from Jim or Artie, despite her clumsiness. And he had seemed chillingly indifferent to any harm to her two friends. That brought her up short. They had treated her like a friend and Jim hadn't even complained when she'd shot him. Sweetie saw her recent actions in a new light, when looked at from their point of view. Dr Loveless had played very much on her sympathy and sense of injustice and maybe she had become just a little too biased. She decided to go back to the laboratory and have a talk with the Doctor.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Sweetie had arrived outside the laboratory in time to hear Loveless admit that he planned to kill Artie. She simply couldn't allow it, but she was worried that she wouldn't be able to prevent it. Instead of entering the laboratory, Sweetie ran to Artie's room.

As Jim stumbled into the hallway, trying to remember which way to go, Sweetie was rescuing Artie.

Artie had been lying with his eyes closed, unable to sleep either because of his worry for Jim. He opened them, when he heard someone come in and looked at her in surprise. "Ah, a pretty young woman in my room at night; things are looking up," he quipped.

"Ssssshhh! We have to be quick. Jim's on his way here to kill you," she said, quickly lighting the lamp next to the bed.

"Not again," Artie said, trying to fight down the fear he felt, not so much for himself but for his partner.

Sweetie pulled up her skirt and, releasing her knife from her garter, began to cut the ropes tying Artie to the bed. ' _Jim really ought to see her legs_ ,' he thought.

"I pity your fiancé if you wear that particular garter on your wedding night," Artie said, throwing the ropes off and leaping up from the bed. "I suppose I should be grateful that you didn't accidentally spill any of my blood."

"I don't seem to be so clumsy when it's important," she said. "I don't know why."

The door was flung open so hard that the hinges only just held. Jim entered the room and he was obviously extremely worked up. Before Artie had a chance to do anything, his friend had aimed a punch at him. Artie managed to dodge the blow. During the hours he had spent tied to the bed, he had come up with a plan to thwart Loveless. It all depended on his talent for mimicry. He had been practising and now he had no choice but to try it in earnest.

"Mr West, leave Mr Gordon alone," he said, in Loveless' voice. It wasn't absolutely perfect but he hoped it was good enough.

Jim had been about to grab hold of him but now he stopped and looked at him, puzzled. It had worked!

"Don't listen to him!" Loveless said and then jumped up and down with temper when he realised his mistake. Jim couldn't tell the difference between Artie's voice and that of Loveless, so he had, in fact said 'don't listen to me!' Now Jim would ignore anything Loveless said. Any control he had over Jim was gone. It hadn't escaped his notice that Sweetie had obviously changed sides as well. That left him no alternative but to do what he was good at – run away.

With the use of a trick, Loveless caused a flash of light to blind everyone in the room. By the time the resultant smoke had cleared and they'd had recovered their eyesight and stopped coughing, Loveless and his wife were nowhere to be seen. As always, he had arranged for a hidden escape route. Artie wasn't concerned with him at that moment. He was far too worried about Jim. Now that he had no voice to obey, how were they to get him to do anything?

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Early the next morning Artie was mounted on his horse, looking down at Sweetie and Jim. Thankfully, Artie had discovered that, without Loveless' voice to control him, Jim was capable of movement, though not by his own volition. If you took him by the hand, however, he was happy to go wherever you led him and, in this way, he had been brought outside.

Jim was well aware of his predicament and he knew that Artie was leaving.

"If I head due north of here, I reckon I'll hit a town called Mirabelle," Artie said. "They have a telegraph office there and I can contact Washington and get them to send the Wanderer to meet us there. I'll arrange for a wagon to come out and collect both of you, and the horses. It should be here within no more than half a day. Do you think you'll be alright here with Jim?"

"We'll be fine," Sweetie said. "I feel so guilty, it's a wonder to me that you trust me to look after him, after all I've done."

"Don't think about that now. If you help us it will go some way to making up for your actions. I'd take you both with me but I'm not absolutely sure how we'd get Jim on his horse and he'd probably slow us down." It sounded cruel to his own ears and he looked apologetically at Jim.

When he next spoke, his voice filled with emotion and he had to cough to clear his throat. "I'll go as fast as I can," he said.

"You take care," Sweetie told him. "Jim's relying on you now."

"We've always relied on each other," Artie corrected her. Then he was gone and she watched until she could no longer make out the shape of the rider and horse.

"Well, Jim, we'd better get you back inside," she said, taking him by the hand. Jim quietly went with her.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

With half a day of looking after Jim ahead of her, Sweetie began wondering how she could persuade him to eat and how easy it would be to deal with his physical needs. She was no shy miss, having been brought up during the war, helping her father with his medical duties, when the need arose. Her anxiety was for Jim, who would have the humiliation of being helpless and relying on a woman to help him with the simplest and most intimate tasks. And she was a woman who had betrayed him into the hands of Doctor Loveless in the first place. She had thought Loveless was playing a harmless prank on the boys, to pay them back. Now she shivered as she recalled the glee in his voice when planning to kill Artie and make Jim suffer for it the rest of his life. ' _How could I have been so stupid_?' she thought.

Her attention was drawn to Jim, who had become unusually restless. She could guess what the problem was and, taking him by the hand, she led him in the direction of the water closet.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Artie had snatched a bite to eat before he left but Sweetie and Jim had yet to have breakfast so she prepared scrambled eggs and coffee for them both. This seemed the easiest food for Jim to eat. She had some success in getting Jim to open his mouth and swallow the eggs, though with a minimum of chewing. His brain seemed to tell him he needed to eat and it made him do some things automatically. The coffee was a different matter. Sweetie had spilled some even before she got it into the cup and Jim completed the task. She was thinking what lovely lips he had when she made her first mistake of not holding the cup close enough to his mouth. The hot liquid cascaded down his chin and onto his shirt and the tablecloth. Then she tipped the cup too far and he couldn't swallow quickly enough, making him splutter coffee over the sleeve of her dress.

"Well, that's good-bye to that," she said. "Now we'll both have to change our clothes."

Sweetie put down the cup and led Jim away from the table and along the hallway to her room. She sat Jim on the bed and, once she had his shirt off, removed the sling and bandage from his left arm to examine the wound. It seemed to be healing nicely, despite the mauling it had endured during his fight with Artie. She dressed it again but didn't replace the sling.

Jim was nervous. He never thought he would be worried that a beautiful woman would force him into an intimate situation but, since Sweetie had betrayed them to Loveless, he wasn't completely sure of her motives toward him. He and Artie had bumped into a few women in the course of their work who would be happy to take advantage of his helpless state. Her having to take care of his personal needs had already thrown them into a relationship which was closer than he liked. She knew almost everything about his body.

Sweetie left him sitting on the bed, unhooked her dress and dropped it to the floor. She was wearing a petticoat underneath, so Jim couldn't see the shapely legs that Artie had so admired back in Ventura Springs. He braced himself for what would come next. Suddenly Sweetie was on top of him. She fumbled about and practically opened his wound again with the pressure she put on his shoulders, following her rolling about. Eventually she stood upright, her face flushed. "I'm so sorry, Jim," she said. "I must have hurt you." It's the fault of these new-fangled boots I bought to impress Lance. I put them on this morning to cheer myself up and now I've tripped over my own dress. They are kind of elegant though, aren't they?" she asked, displaying her trim ankles clad in the fancy footwear.

Jim stayed looking straight ahead of him; he was just relieved that she hadn't been attempting to ravish him. ' _Can you ravish a man_?' he wondered.

When she had removed the offending dress from under her feet, and donned a fresh one, Sweetie helped Jim on with a clean shirt from his saddle bag, which she fetched from Artie's room. She tried to make her actions as impersonal as possible. Jim must hate being as helpless as a baby.

With nothing further to do until the wagon arrived to transport them to Mirabelle, Sweetie decided to sit them both down in the parlour, where she could make her apologies to Jim and try to comfort him, if that was possible.

"Jim, I know it's probably awful for you, having to put up with me looking after you when I've heaped such misery on you. You were so kind to me after I shot you; I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for handing you over to Doctor Loveless. You must know I would never have done it if I'd known what he was really like. I met him and his wife on the coach to Coleville and we struck up an acquaintance. He invited me here and that's when he poisoned my mind against you and Artie. He took me in completely. That's all I can say except I'll look after you for as long as it takes, if you let me, even if it's for the rest of my life. I'm sure Lance will understand." She swallowed and smothered a sob at the idea of giving up her fiancé but recovered enough to continue. "He's very strict about duty and obligation. I guess that comes from his being a military man, though he's a doctor first and foremost."

Sweetie stopped talking and looked into Jim's face. His stare was still fixed and she had no idea of his thoughts. Would he accept her offer?

Sweetie leaned against Jim and took his uninjured hand gently into hers.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	9. Home at Last

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 9

 **Home at last**

Sweetie was awoken by the arrival of the wagon. She was ashamed at having dozed off when she had been supposed to be comforting Jim. She didn't feel so bad when she realised that he too had fallen asleep. She woke him and it didn't take long to load the wagon with Jim's saddlebags, and her own carpet bag. The driver helped her to tie the two horses to the back.

It was decided that Jim would be lifted into the back of the wagon to lie down and Sweetie would sit with him, having laid a blanket on the bare boards. She took his head in her lap, to make him more comfortable and then signalled for the driver to set off.

They made good time to Mirabelle but, even then, the journey took two hours. Artie was waiting for them, at the livery stable, and helped both Sweetie and Jim down from the wagon. Artie gave his partner a hug of greeting.

"Boy, am I glad to see you." He turned to Sweetie. "Has everything been okay?" he asked.

"Yes, Jim was no trouble, no trouble at all."

"I'm sorry I had to leave you like that," Artie said.

"I was just glad that there was something I could do to help, after all the harm I've done."

Artie frowned. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for some further assistance. Would you mind joining us on the Wanderer to help care for Jim? We'll drop you off near Fort Cheyenne so you can meet up with your fiancé."

"I wouldn't think of abandoning you until Jim is fully recovered," Sweetie declared.

"I couldn't ask you to do that. It could take years, it could be never," he said, his voice nearly breaking as he finally put the unbearable thought into words."

"I don't care," Sweetie said, with tears in her eyes. "I promised Jim and I never go back on my word," she said.

Artie took her hands in his and kissed her on the cheek. "I can't ask you to keep that promise and Jim wouldn't either but it is sweet of you to offer."

"I meant it," Sweetie said.

"I know, I know, but now is not the time for discussing the future. I've booked a couple of rooms at the hotel and I think we should get Jim there and arrange for some dinner. You'll want to clean up after your journey as well, no doubt."

"I have to admit I'm a little dishevelled," Sweetie said, trying to force her hair into something like its normal style. "Let me help you with Jim first."

Artie nodded and the three of them somehow made it to the hotel and upstairs to their rooms.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Artie sent Sweetie down to the dining room to eat but managed to have food delivered to his room for himself and Jim. He had been glad of Sweetie's assistance that morning but he was going to look after Jim as much as he could from now on. He knew Jim would do the same for him but neither of them would do it out of duty or guilt. They would do it out of the deep respect and friendship there was between them.

At first Jim wouldn't open his mouth when Artie tried to feed him. That was strange because he must be hungry as he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Then Artie had the terrible idea that his friend might be doing it on purpose, maybe he was trying to starve himself to death, rather than carry on as he was. That was when Artie remembered that Jim had been standing right next to them when he had told Sweetie that he might never recover.

"Remember to kick me for being a damned fool, when we get out of this one, Jim," Artie said, "because we are going to get you out of this. I won't give up and I won't let you either. Please don't do this, Jim."

Jim slowly opened his mouth and Artie gave him a tearful smile as he spooned a mouthful of the stew into his mouth. "Sorry it's not steak," he said, "maybe tomorrow, eh?"

Both of them knew that wasn't likely to happen but Jim continued to open his mouth to be fed, totally relying on Artie, as he always did.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The three of them stayed the night at the hotel and then, after an early breakfast, made their way to the train tracks outside of town, where they were to wait for the Wanderer. They went at walking pace for the half mile journey, with Jim being led by a rope tied to the back of Artie's horse and Jim's horse being led by Sweetie. Artie knew it was humiliating for Jim to travel this way but he couldn't think of anything else.

"Here she comes," Artie shouted, as the Wanderer appeared within sight. He dismounted and Sweetie did the same. "We can stable the horses on board," he told her. "I'll handle that, if you take Jim to the living quarters and sit with him until I arrive."

Sweetie nodded as the noise of the engine was now loud enough to drown out anything she might say.

Once Artie had finished in the livery car he joined Jim and Sweetie in the varnish car. From there he showed Sweetie where Jim's room was.

"I thought Jim would be more comfortable in his own quarters," Artie said, "but one of us is going to have to stay with him, because he's unable to tell us if he needs anything."

Jim was lying on the bed with his head propped up against a heap of pillows. Sweetie looked down at him and smiled. "Anything you say, Artie," she said. "I'll stay here for now. I'm sure you have plenty to do."

Artie nodded. "See you later, Jim," he said, as he left. Sweetie was right; he did have a lot to do.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Back in the Varnish car, Artie lost no time in sending a message to Washington, confirming their rendezvous with the Wanderer and the fact that Jim was still incapacitated. He also requested the name and address of an expert in problems with the brain, someone who was an advanced thinker and could come up with something to counteract whatever Loveless had done to his friend. He knew it wasn't simple hypnotism as that had never worked on either of them. He remembered the trouble Dr Ocularis had gone to get Jim to obey just one single command and Jim had managed to overcome the conditioning even then.

When he received the information, he was glad that Sweetie had offered to stay with Jim, as they would need to take a detour on their way to Fort Cheyenne, to a small town called Summerville, to see a Doctor Webber. He went to tell Sweetie the news.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	10. The Expert

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 10

 **The Expert**

"That's great," Sweetie said, when he told her. "Doctor Webber is my father."

"How can that be when your name is 'Sweetman'?"

"Because he's my mother's second husband but I always refer to him as my father because he married my mother when I was very young. I don't remember my real father."

"But I thought you said your father was an army doctor."

"He was, during the war, but he is an expert in injuries to the brain, physical and psychological. He learned a lot from treating and studying wounded soldiers, while working for the union army."

Artie was obviously relieved. "You won't mind then if we take a detour to visit him then."

"Not at all, it will be nice to make a visit home, and I already told you, I'm not leaving Jim until he recovers."

"You are one stubborn lady," Artie said.

Sweetie frowned. "You know, people often say that about me; I don't know why."

Artie's eyebrows rose up at least half an inch at this comment. This woman really was oblivious to her own behaviour.

"We have permission to set off straight away," Artie said, so we should be there by tomorrow morning."

He turned to Jim. "It won't be long now, my boy," he said. "We'll soon have you back to your old, charming self."

Jim tried to smile, and failed.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Dr Webber was a man in his early fifties, with short, greying hair, a trim beard and a prominent nose. He welcomed his daughter with a fatherly embrace and then looked at his visitors. "So, Sweetie, while I supposed you to be safely on the stagecoach, you have been travelling with two government agents," he said. "I think I deserve an explanation, don't you?"

"I'll tell you all about it later, father. I'm afraid I've been very stupid and you'll be ashamed of me."

Dr Webber looked at Artie askance. "I hope there has been no inappropriate behaviour or I shall have to call this gentleman to account," he said.

"No, father, Artie and Jim have been real gentleman. It's my actions that shame me. It's my fault Jim is in the state he's in now. Please can you help him?"

"I believe Colonel Richmond sent you a message, informing you of our visit," Artie said.

"Yes. I take it you are Mr Gordon and that is your fellow agent, Mr West. The Colonel didn't tell me what you wanted to see me about."

"I'd like you to take a look at my partner. He's been subjected to some sort of mind control and I'm hoping you can help him."

"Mind control, you say." Webber looked closely at Jim, noting the glassy stare and his rigid composure. "He looks almost imbecilic," he said.

"I should caution you to be careful what you say. There's nothing wrong with Jim's faculties; he can understand everything that' going on around him."

"Is that so? This is a most fascinating case. Do you know what was done to him?"

"No, neither Sweetie nor I were there when it happened. Can it be reversed?"

"I'm not sure. Have you ruled out hypnotism?"

"Yes."

"Bring him into my laboratory and I'll examine him. Not you, young lady," he said to Sweetie, who was following along.

"Please!" she said.

"It's all right," Artie said. "She's been a great help to Jim."

Dr Webber nodded reluctantly and the three of them followed the doctor into a small, well-lit room at the back of the house.

"Sit him on the bed, please."

Artie led Jim over to the bed and gently folded him down onto it. He squeezed his shoulder before stepping back to let Webber approach his patient.

Webber looked closely into Jim's eyes and used a small hammer to check his reflexes.

"He appears all right, physically," he said. "We just need to unlock his mind."

"Can you do that?"

"I have been looking into the subject of brain stimulation. Some of the soldiers I treated for head injuries were left in a permanent state of shock and I had some success introducing stimulus to break down the barriers formed by their experiences."

"Will it work on Jim?"

"I think it might. It's a shame Jim can't talk, he might be able to tell us what was done to him. Then we'd have better chance of reversing it."

"I don't think he knows," Sweetie said. "Whatever Doctor Loveless did, Jim was unconscious at the time."

"What are you going to do?" Artie asked.

"I'm going to put a probe into Mr West's brain," Webber said.

"How is that possible?" Artie asked.

"There are two ways. In layman's terms, one is through the nose, but I consider that very risky. I prefer to make entry through the ear."

"Will it cause Jim any pain?"

"Yes, but I can't give him anything for it because it would dull the sensitivity of his brain to the necessary stimulation."

"When will you begin?"

"I need to make some preparations; I should be ready after lunch. Sweetie, tell cook that we have two guests for luncheon and please bring something to me in the laboratory. I have work to do here."

Thus the three of them were dismissed and Sweetie went to the kitchen while Artie led Jim to the cloakroom so that they could both wash up before eating.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

After lunch the three of them waited in the parlour until they were summoned to Dr Webber's laboratory. They found him messing with a bank of Leyden jars, rigged to wires connected to a pair of electrodes.

"Ah, gentlemen, Sweetie, I'm ready to begin. Please seat Mr West on the bed again."

Artie did as he was instructed. He looked nervous. Again, he reassuringly pressed his hand on Jim's shoulder before standing back.

Webber turned Jim's head toward the window, where the light was best and lifted one of the electrodes in his right hand ready to place it in Jim's left ear. He pushed the wire into the opening.

"My goodness!" Webber proclaimed. "How odd!" he added, removing the electrode and grabbing a magnifying glass from the table top.

"What is it?" Artie asked, fear in his voice. "Is he hurt?"

"No not at all. At least I hope not."

"What is it?" Sweetie asked.

"There's something embedded deep in the inner ear; probably the mechanism by which control is being exerted over your friend."

"What? Can you get it out?"

"I should think so; it extends quite a way. Anyway, I'm going to try. But I have to warn you that it may destroy his hearing in that ear."

"Go ahead!" Artie said, fully aware that Jim would say 'get on with it!' if he could

Webber placed a white cloth on Jim's shoulder, below his ear and probed for the mechanism. "It seems to be spiked into his brain; I'm worried I'll cause damage if I continue," he said.

"Isn't there _anything_ you can do, Father?" Sweetie asked, agitatedly.

Webber turned to Artie. "How much do you know about the man who constructed this thing, this Doctor Loveless? He must have a great mind."

"He has but unfortunately it's bent on evil. He once used a series of sounds to move human matter in and out of paintings. Is that any help?"

"Yes, it could be. It may be that the grip of this mechanism can be released with the correct sound. Did this man have a piano in his house?

"Yes, his wife is a talented pianist."

"I remember seeing a tuning fork on top of the piano," Sweetie said, excitedly.

"Then that's probably what he used. An A-sharp hopefully, as that is the one that I have. Sweetie, will you fetch it for me."

Sweetie nodded and ran from the room. She was back a couple of minutes later. "Here you are," she said.

"Thank you. Now, let me try out my theory."

So saying, Dr Webber struck the forked end on the bottom of his shoe and, as the tines vibrated, a high-pitched sound could be heard. He held it close to Jim's ear.

Jim let out an agonised cry and slumped forward. Artie was only just in time to catch him before he keeled over onto the floor.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	11. What Loveless Did

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 11

 **What Loveless did**

"Jim! Jim!" There was no response. Artie looked at Webber over the top of Jim's head. "What's happened, Doctor?" he asked.

Webber took Jim's head in his strong clasp and probed into his ear. With an exclamation of triumph, he drew out the pronged mechanism that Loveless had placed there and which was now loose.

"He should be all right now," he said, smiling.

Artie wasn't so sure. That thing had been in there for days.

"Why has he collapsed?"

"It's probably the shock. He could be out for a couple of hours or a couple of days. It depends on how long it takes his brain to recover. You're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

"Thank you, Doctor Webber. I'll gladly take you up on that offer."

"He ought to be lying down," Sweetie said. "Can you manage to get him upstairs?"

"No problem," Artie said, hefting Jim's trim form up onto his shoulder. "Lead the way, young lady!"

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The next evening found Artie sitting in an armchair next to Jim's bed, studying an article on brain injuries that Dr Webber had lent him. It had only increased his fears for Jim. His optimism was further dented by the fact that his partner hadn't moved a muscle since Artie had gently laid him there the day before.

Sweetie put her head round the door. "How is he?" she asked.

"You can see for yourself," Artie replied, inviting her into the room.

Sweetie crept over to the bed and took a long look at the handsome man lying there. She couldn't bear to think that she was the cause of all his problems.

"You don't have to creep about like that," Artie said. "I'd give anything for him to wake up; I can't take all this waiting."

"Oh dear," Sweetie said. "You must really hate me for doing this to Jim."

Artie looked at her. "Don't worry, you're not the first pretty young lady who's been taken in by Loveless. And I've been with Jim long enough to know that he's not vindictive and actually has a tendency to be very lenient with young ladies. There was this woman once who actually tried to shoot him, while he was having dinner with her..."

Artie's words were cut short by a groan from the bed and suddenly two pairs of eyes were fixed intently on Jim's face.

"Jim!" Artie said. "Jim, can you hear me?"

"No need t-to sh-shout, Artie!" Came the low-voiced reply.

Artie could hardly contain himself. He wanted to hug Jim or dance round the room. He did neither, as he had to think of what was best for his partner. He did take hold of Jim's hand, though, which was lying on the bedcover.

"Oh Jim, I'm so glad you're back with us," Sweetie said, falling to her knees and taking Jim's bandaged, hand in hers.

"How do you feel?" Artie asked.

"Like I'm in the m-middle of a t-tug of war," Jim said.

Both of them immediately let go of his hands. Artie placed his hand on Jim's forehead instead. His skin was cool and dry, a good sign. He checked Jim's pulse; it was strong.

"Don't worry, Jim. Everything's going to be all right now. Sweetie, will you ask your father to come up here?"

"I won't be long," Sweetie said to Jim.

It was only after she was gone that Artie worried that she would fall down the stairs in her excitement at Jim's recovery. Oh well, too late now. Thankfully there were no sounds of a catastrophe and Sweetie was soon back, with Dr Webber in tow.

"Hello, young man," he said to Jim, "I see you're back with us again. How do you feel?"

"St-strange, Doc."

"Hmm, that's not surprising. At least your speech has returned, and your hearing seems unimpaired. Are you able to move?"

"I th-think s-so." He lifted his left arm a few inches off the bed. "S-sorry, I feel a b-bit weak."

"You should get some rest now and I'll see you in the morning. You should have regained some strength by then."

"I'll sleep in here tonight," Artie said, "just in case Jim needs me." The look he gave Jim meant that he wouldn't pay attention to any arguments from him. Truthfully, Jim was glad to have his company. He'd been unsettled by his recent experience and was still worried about the future. He had yet to regain his usual fitness and he was aware that he seemed to have picked up a stammer.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Knowing that Jim was now secure, and almost recovered, Artie allowed himself to fall into a light sleep late that night. He was awoken by a noise from the direction of the bed, followed by a mumbled cuss word, and sat up in his chair to see if Jim was all right.

He was half sitting up, trying to pour water, from the jug beside his bed, into a glass, which was now residing on the bedside rug. Artie stood and picked up the glass.

"Here, let me do that," Artie said, filling the glass with water.

"Th-thanks," Jim said, taking the glass from him and drinking a long draught. He was obviously very thirsty, despite the fact that he had been given water since he came round the previous evening. Artie realised that, when he was under Loveless' control, Jim hadn't been able to eat or drink without being ordered to. He could believe that the doctor had revelled in starving the agent and only letting him have just enough to drink. Now Jim needed to replenish his body's supply.

When Jim had finished and the glass was back on the bedside table, he didn't try to go to sleep again but looked at Artie. "I feel like t-talking," he said.

"Sure," Artie replied, surprised that Jim still had the stutter.

"I don't want t-to go t-to Denver," he got out.

"We don't have to, now we've already met up with the Wanderer," Artie assured him. "Where do you want to go for the rest of our leave?"

"Just th-the t-two of us?"

"Of course."

"No hospitals?"

"What do you mean?" Artie was alarmed.

"B-brain damage."

Artie took his friend firmly by the arm. "Jim, come the morning, you'll be fine, just you see. You need time to get back to full fitness, that's all."

Jim shook his head. His hair was tousled and made him look younger and vulnerable. "Th-the st-stammer," he managed to get out, with difficulty. It was obviously frustrating for him.

"It's probably only temporary, Jim, but if not then we'll deal with it. You don't need to be worried or embarrassed."

"Don't t-tell anyone!"

"Alright, Jim, whatever you say. We'll take the Wanderer..."

"No. Just you and m-me."

Artie nodded. "We'll do what you want. I know of a place we can stay, a hunting shack, where no-one will bother us." ' _And where you can lick your wounds in silence_ ,' he thought.

Artie had tried not to let his thoughts dwell of the indignities that he and Sweetie and, worst of all, Loveless and his wife, had witnessed Jim undergo. That was enough to damage him psychologically, without having that 'thing' being attached to his brain. Artie was happy to prevent him having to deal with this new problem in front of others. They had sixteen days of leave left and, if necessary, Artie would apply for more and, if he was refused, well – they would take the time anyway. He owed Jim that.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The following morning, Jim was able to walk and to mount his horse. Sweetie packed them both a parcel of food and filled their canteens with fresh water.

"Good luck," she told Artie, as she kissed him on the cheek. "I'm getting married at Fort Cheyenne on the fifth of next month. I'd really like it if you and Jim could be there."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, "but it's up to Jim. I have to put him first."

"I understand," Sweetie said. "Look after him for me."

"I will."

"Good-bye Jim!" she called out. She was aware, since breakfast, that he was reluctant to talk so she was content with the nod he gave her.

"I'm not happy with you travelling so soon after I removed that thing from Mr West's head," Dr Webber told Artie.

"Don't worry, Doctor," Artie said. "I'll take good care of him."

"I hope we'll meet up with both of you again. I like to keep in touch with my patients. If you have any trouble, please contact me straight away, won't you?"

"I won't take any chances with Jim's health," Artie assured him.

Farewells over, the two agents rode away.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	12. The Shack

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 12

 **The Shack**

The shack Artie had talked about was almost a day's ride from Summerville. Jim was understandably silent during the morning, speaking only once or twice. Artie missed their usual conversation and the good-natured ribbing. They stopped in the middle of the day to brew some coffee and eat some beef jerky, bread and cheese.

"We should be there in about two hours," Artie said, swilling his coffee round in the bottom of the mug.

"Uh huh," Jim replied, taking a sip of his own coffee.

Artie sighed but didn't push it. Jim would talk when he wanted to. They continued to eat in silence with Artie glancing across once to see a strained look on his partner's face. Jim noticed and forced a smile for Artie's sake. He had to be content with that for the time being.

"Well, I guess we'd better get going," Artie said, emptying the remaining contents of the coffee pot over the fire, to extinguish it.

They packed up and were soon on the trail, taking it slowly, drifting along, with the sun shining through the trees and the swaying gait of the horses. When his chestnut suddenly reared up, it caught Artie by surprise and he fell to the ground, landing in a twisted position. He heard a shot ring out but couldn't move. His head and his leg hurt like hell.

"St-stay where you are, b-buddy," Jim said, dropping down beside him.

"What happened?" Artie asked, wincing.

"A Sn-snake," Jim said, checking his friend over.

"Is my horse all right?"

"Yeah, he was just sc-scared." Jim said. He grasped Artie's foot and tried to straighten his leg out.

"Hey, watch it!" Artie yelled.

He removed Artie's left boot, with difficulty, and probed the area with his fingers. "Looks like a sp-sprained ankle," Jim said. "How's your head?"

"I'll live," Artie said, running his hand over a tender spot on the back of his head.

"It would t-take m-more th-than a fall to crack s-such a hard head as yours," Jim joked.

Artie winced. "You're always so sympathetic," he said.

"I t-try. Now let's get you b-back on your horse."

The chestnut was standing a few feet away. Jim led the horse over to Artie. He stood Artie up on one leg and then hoisted him into the saddle.

"Watch your shoulder!" Artie warned.

Jim nodded. He gently placed his partner's injured foot into the stirrup and then mounted his own horse.

They set off, side by side, Jim keeping an eye out for his partner as they continued a little slower than before, to accommodate the fact that Artie couldn't use his knees to control his horse, without experiencing a sharp pain in his ankle.

Once again there was silence except for the singing of the birds. Obviously Jim had talked all he was going to for the time being.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The shack was pretty basic. There were two beds, a table and chairs, a range for cooking, and a water pump outside.

Jim helped Artie into the shack and walked him over to one of the beds. Artie spared Jim the need to speak.

"Thanks Jim, I think I'll lie down for a bit and rest the foot. If you take care of the horses, I'll make sure I'm up and about later to prepare us something to eat."

Jim nodded and left to see to the animals.

Artie, propped himself up against the head board and glared down at the offending ankle, which was throbbing like mad. He tried flexing it but soon gave up, because of the pain, and took to thinking about the situation. He had hoped that Jim would be able to relax completely at the shack and that would do a lot to cure him of the stammer, which Dr Webber had told him was either wholly or partly caused by the mental trauma Jim had suffered. There might also be a physical component to the problem. Artie knew there wasn't much he could do about that. Time was the only cure. However, he had borrowed a book from Webber that should help with the effects of the trauma. It was entitled ' _Causes, Prevention and Treatment of Stammering and Stuttering',_ and claimedto include a self cure. He removed it from his pocket and settled down to read it.

By the time Jim had fed and watered the horses, being careful with his wounded shoulder, and brought the saddlebags in, Artie was sound asleep, a book lying open on his chest. Jim picked it up and read the title, shook his head, and placed it on the table. Next he examined Artie's swollen ankle, treating it with gentle fingers, so as not to wake him. He knew that, once awake, his partner would be determined to keep his promise to prepare something to eat and he really should rest his foot instead. Having decided that the sprain was not too bad, Jim removed Artie's remaining boot and covered him with a blanket.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

Artie woke up a couple of hours later and looked around him, quickly assimilating the fact that he was lying on his bed in the shack.

"Just in t-time for dinner," Jim said, bringing him a plate of beans to eat, with some of the bread left over from lunch.

"You should have woken me up," Artie said.

"Don't worry about it."

They ate in silence for a while.

"I'll st-strap your ankle up for you b-before we t-turn in for th-the night," Jim said.

"Thanks. What will you use for a bandage?"

"Sw-Sweetie sp-spilled coffee on one of m-my sh-shirts; I'll use th-that."

"Ouch! I know how expensive they are."

"Only th-the b-best for you, Artie."

They drank coffee and then Artie indicated that he needed to relieve himself. For once, it was Jim's turn to help, for which Artie was very grateful.

Jim tore a strip from the clean part of his shirt and wrapped the cloth around Artie's ankle, as tightly as he dared, without cutting off the circulation to his foot, while Artie growled and complained.

"You don't m-make a very good patient," Jim said.

"And you don't make a very good nurse," Artie countered, knowing he was being unfair, but determined to keep Jim talking.

Jim grinned. "I know what you're up t-to," he said, "and it won't work. I'm off t-to b-bed."

"Maybe you're right. You need the rest."

"I'll leave you th-the lamp s-so you can read your b-book."

Jim gave Artie his book and placed the lamp on a table next to the bed.

"Thanks Jim. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Artie."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo


	13. Theopolis Thistle

**The Night of the Floundering Female**

Chapter 13

 **Theopolis Thistle**

Jim was up early next morning to see to the horses and gather some firewood for the range. They'd brought some eggs with them, from Summerville, and he broke four into a pan, with some cooking grease and a slice of bread, cut in two.

By the time Artie surfaced, breakfast was on the table and coffee was brewing on top of the range. He sat on the bed, getting ready to hop to the table. Jim came forward with a piece of bough that he had fashioned into a crutch, and held it out to his friend.

"Wow, you must have got up early to make this. Thanks," he said, as he positioned it under his armpit and tried a few steps.

"It was a lucky find," Jim said, sitting down at the table.

Artie followed suit. "Jim, my boy, you're spoiling me," he said, tucking into is share of the eggs and fried bread.

"M-make th-the m-most of it," Jim replied, "it's b-beef jerky for lunch."

Artie grimaced. He'd just about had his fill of the stuff over the past two weeks.

Jim got up and fetched the coffee. He poured them both a cup and took a sip.

"Why are you looking at m-me like th-that?" he asked, seeing Artie frown.

"It's just something I read in that book Doctor Webber lent me. If you want to cure a stammer you should lay off of coffee and alcohol."

"You have t-to b-be kidding," Jim said, taking another sip.

"I think we should take this seriously, Jim. I appreciate that you're now talking freely but things will be different when we get back to civilisation, and you know it."

Jim put down his cup and studied the table for a while.

"Alright," he said. "Let's s-say I do what th-the b-book s-says. Are you s-sure it will work?"

"I can't say, Jim. The book mostly deals with cases of children, ones that are affected by nerves or physical weakness. I can't say that either of those applies to you, and you're not a child, but the author also talks about traumatic effects and I think that does fit your situation. I don't know everything Loveless did, to you and I'm not going to ask you to tell me. However, I know how much you hate not being in control and I'm sure that, just having that thing forced in your ear, taking away your free will, must have caused a certain amount of trauma."

"You're right, I don't want t-to t-talk about it, b-but I will, if it will help."

"Jim, have you noticed that you only stammer on words beginning with particular letters, namely B, M, S and T?

"No I hadn't. Does th-that m-mean s-something?"

"I don't know, but it is interesting."

"What else does th-the b-book s-say?" Jim asked.

It suggests lots of exercise, both physical and with your speech."

"S-such as?"

"There's a good one here," Artie said, finding a page in the book and indicating the passage to Jim.

"Th-theopolis Th-thistle th-the th-thistle s-sifter..."Jim trailed off. "You have t-to b-be kidding. I can't s-say th-this."

"That's the whole point," Artie said. "You sit there and repeat that at least ten times, while I clear away the breakfast things, and then I'll let you go on a hard and fast ride on that stallion of yours. That should blow some cobwebs out of your brain."

"Th-thanks, you're all heart," Jim replied, turning back to the book and starting again. "Th-theopolis Th-thistle th-the...," he began again.

"Don't forget to say it real fast, as fast as you can," Artie said.

Jim sighed and started again. "Th-theopolis Th-thistle..."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

The days at the shack passed in much the same way as that first day. When Jim went for a ride, he usually came back with a rabbit which he cooked the first couple of nights, mainly because of Artie's ankle. After that Artie insisted that he would do the cooking.

"I can easily do it," Jim said. "I used t-to cook in t-the army."

"Oh is that what you call it? I hate to accuse you of lying Jim, but jamming an unrecognisable animal on a stick and cremating it is something completely different to cooking."

"Needs m-must," Jim replied.

"That's my point exactly. If I'm not going to avoid indigestion, if not death, then _I'll_ do the cooking."

Jim shrugged and then grinned as he threw himself onto his bed, place his arms above his head, tipped his hat forward, and closed his eyes. "Knock yourself out!" he said.

Artie smiled, not least because he could look forward to dinner, now he was in charge. What really pleased him was the small changes he had noticed in Jim over the last couple of days. He was more relaxed and, although the stammer had not gone, he wasn't having so much trouble with his words, and they rolled more readily off his tongue. Artie was thankful for any change and it was only a short time since Jim had begun the exercises. He hadn't been so successful in persuading him to give up his coffee, though he had limited it to one cup in the morning.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

After they'd been there five days, Artie's ankle had recovered enough for him to go riding with Jim, not his favourite past-time, but a good opportunity for them to be together and share the sunshine and the fresh air.

"It's good to get away from the shack at last," Artie said.

"Feeling tied to the stove, were you?" Jim ribbed him.

"I'd gladly tie myself to the stove if it kept you away from it."

"Very funny."

There was silence for a moment.

"I want to thank you for everything, Artie."

"I didn't do it, you did," Artie told him. It was wonderful to hear Jim speak without a stammer.

"Maybe, but I couldn't have done it without you, you know what I'm like, when I have a problem."

Yeah, you either bottle it up or you start a fight."

Jim laughed. "That's about it," he agreed. Then he sobered up. "I can't promise that won't happen in the future but this time I really tried to open up."

Artie nodded. "I know," he said. In fact, two nights ago was when Jim had turned the corner, after telling Artie what had happened to him at the hands of Loveless. It was worse than Artie had hoped but not quite as bad as he had imagined. He knew what it cost Jim to tell me about it but he also knew that it had contributed to his friend's recovery.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

On the evening of fourth of June, Artie and Jim arrived at Fort Cheyenne. Jim was looking tanned and fit and Artie was relaxed and smiling. They had rendezvoused with the Wanderer a couple of days before, arriving in Cheyenne that morning, a short ride from the fort.

Artie had telegraphed ahead and so they were met at the gates by Colonel Eckland, Sweetie and Doctor Webber.

They dismounted and shook hands with the Colonel, and then Sweetie ran forward and hugged them both. "I'm so glad you could make it," she said. "Now everything will be perfect."

"Hello, gentlemen," Doctor Webber said. "I echo my daughter's sentiments. I trust you are recovered, Mr West?"

"Yes, thanks to Artie here," Jim replied, smiling at his partner.

"I tried the self cure, outlined in the book you lent me. By the way, here it is, with my thanks," he added, handing it back.

"Congratulations, Mr Gordon."

"Jim was the one who did all the hard work."

"Yes, but it was Artie who kept my nose to the grindstone." He patted Artie on the back.

"I don't care how you did it, I'm just glad Jim's all right," Sweetie said.

"And here was I believing you wanted to look after me for the rest of your life," Jim said, dismayed.

Sweetie laughed. "I would have done it, but I think being married to Lieutenant Kirby will be much more to my liking," she said, cheekily.

"Well, you can't win 'em all," Jim said.

"Gentlemen, let me show you to your quarters," Colonel Eckland said. I'd like to introduce you to Mrs Eckland as well."

"Lead on, Colonel," Artie said, and they set off, with Sweetie walking in between the two agents.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

At dinner, later that evening, the boys met Lieutenant Lance Kirby, by his proud fiancée. He was tall with blond hair, and an equally blond beard and moustache. He looked down with real affection at Sweetie as she introduced him to them. She was called away by her father at that point and left the three men alone.

"Sweetie has told me a lot about you," Kirby said, "and she confessed what she's been up to. I can't really explain her actions except to say that it's just like her to try and right a wrong but, even she admits, she went too far this time. I'm glad to see that you seem to have forgiven her. It would crush her if you hadn't."

"Then I'll just say that there is now nothing to forgive and we wish the pair of you every happiness," Jim said.

"That's very kind of you; I appreciate it," Kirby said, "and I'm glad you could make it for the wedding tomorrow. It means a lot to Sweetie."

Artie looked at the Lieutenant and said, "Tell me, is Sweetie always so clumsy, and how the hell did you survive this long?"

Kirby laughed. "I long ago started loving her for the mayhem she causes wherever she goes. She is so sweetly apologetic, except when she's oblivious to the results of her actions. Also, for some reason, she's never clumsy when it really counts, which makes her an excellent assistant in a medical emergency."

"There you are, Artie," Jim said. "I told you not to worry about the Lieutenant." At that moment dinner was announced and they moved toward the dining room.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

As Jim and Artie sat back on the Wanderer, waiting to hear from Washington about their next assignment, they talked about the wedding.

"I thought it went off very well considering Sweetie was involved," Jim said.

"Yeah, there were only the minor matters of a dog running off with her hat and the fact that a mule ate their wedding cake. A perfect example of how they can expect their married life to proceed."

"You obviously weren't there when she tripped up the pastor and he fell on the canon," Jim said.

"So that's why he performed the ceremony with a cut on his forehead and his arm in a sling. Good job there was a doctor present."

"There's one thing that really bother me, Artie."

"What's that Jim," Artie said, concerned.

"What the hell will their children turn out like?"

"Will they even survive?" Artie said.

"Perhaps they won't have any."

"You always look on the bright side," Artie said, picking up the newspaper and hiding his head in it.

Jim lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. "Th-the b-bright s-side? Not m-me," Jim said

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

THE END


End file.
